Uberrima Fides
by Marshstone
Summary: When Ingrid's mother is found alive, Ingrid's life begins to spiral upwards and downwards at the same time. As she tries to cope with this unexpected development, Fillmore grows increasingly close to her. But with the school now against Ingrid and the case of a lifetime staring them down, who will break first - Ingrid, or her mother? Ingrid/Fillmore, Mr./Mrs. Third


Over time they'd gotten to know almost everything about each other.

She had learned that Fillmore would eat any kind of seafood under any condition, that he had an allergy to carnations that made Valentine's Day at X akin to walking through a minefield, and even though he swore to his parents he didn't, he listened to a lot of rap. Ingrid might've been able to see that obviously not all rap was gangsta rap, but Fillmore's parents did not, something she could understand and also do nothing about. He had a psychological aversion to showing his eyes without the familiar silver tinted glasses over them, caused by an incident while he was partners with Wayne when their cover was blown due to his eyes giving him away; Ingrid had never seen his eyes, and didn't point out it could have been other things. He and his mother loved basketball while his father swore off all sports.

Fillmore could drink anything lukewarm and would leave food out all day on his desk, no matter how many times she told him it wasn't healthy. He had a subtle tell when he was lying, a relaxation of the shoulders that was hard to catch. As soon as she'd introduced him to the show _Ninja Warrior_ he'd become quietly obsessed, training in his own way for the day he'd be old enough to enter the obstacle course for real. On weekends Fillmore slept in like he'd never seen a bed before. He mumbled little incoherent phrases in his sleep. Though he claimed not to 'get' most of Ingrid's music, he also did not return her Verve or Ride CDs in anything resembling a timely manner. (To say nothing of his crush on Sarantuyaa after Ingrid tried introducing him to foreign music.)

He kept his old clothes from his days trying to be thug under his bed in a flat plastic tub. Ingrid didn't ask for an explanation. She had learned he would supply one if he needed to get it off his chest, and he wouldn't if it was too hard for him. It was that simple. After a while she adapted to his duality, the way he'd both drop chunks of his life in her lap like chapters of a book while holding some parts like papers behind his back, letting her in while playing it safe. She knew a lot about that. She also knew it was an uneven relationship between them at first. He gave her more than she asked for and she in return gave less than the relatively little bits he requested.

Trust was not an instant status granted by partnership or even one forged in the fire of cases won alongside each other. There was no single moment that solidified it, just a hundred fragments that put together the something more that they became. A friendship was built on laughing at Vallejo when his father made him sign up for art lessons, giggling when Danny knit them sweaters, made stronger by quiet admissions of their respective mistakes, became a casual fact around the time she was regularly invited to his house for dinner. They simply fell into place beside each other with less and less friction until they were a team, a duo, part of each other's world that was as constant as breathing. The process was easier than Ingrid had ever thought it would be. It was easy to talk to him, easy to be near him, easy to keep his secrets.

There were a lot of people who thought they were dating, primarily because a lot of people who actually were dating each other didn't have that same closeness.

Eventually she spilled out some of her past to him. That her parents had always been on the brink of divorce for most of her life, she had once run away for two weeks, and that her sister had OCD. She kept something stolen from each school she'd been to almost like souvenirs, taken after she'd been expelled as a final act of rebellion, and was guilty of how proud she was about it. Ingrid's first kiss involved Pokemon, a bet and two weeks of bargaining. The admissions fell from her lips with surprising casualty, leaving her significantly more at ease with him with how he took each revelation and it strengthened this complicated yet simple day to day thing they called their friendship.

But she hadn't told him the real secrets, the things that had formed her into who she was. She danced around certain topics and let others fester like old wounds in the darkness of silence, as if she couldn't bring herself to trust him even now. He knew there were things she held inside and didn't let out. He could see it in her eyes. Another guy might've been frustrated and turned away from the prospect, except this was Ingrid and she was worth it. All his life Fillmore had a grand total of four real friends, half of which had turned on him, one of which was across the country. She was more than just a friend, she was his best friend who gave him space when he needed it and more importantly cornered him when he needed it and wouldn't admit it.

So when Fillmore saw her mother on TV, he had his hand on his long range walkie talkie before the newscaster was even done speaking. In the time he waited for her to answer, his eyes never left the screen, where an incredibly thin, badly battered tan skinned woman with unruly black hair and familiar green eyes stared blankly back, covered in grime and blood. Only belatedly did he even remember his parents were in the room. His mother turned to him to speak, but he was headed for the door, not even bothering with a jacket despite the unseasonable cold of the night. As he hurried down the street, he could still hear the newscaster's words ringing in his head, silent walkie talkie clutched tightly in his fist.

_"Long missing CIA agent Inaya Third was found alive today by American soldiers in the mountains of Afghanistan. Third, who was presumed dead four years ago after an operation gone awry, is being transported back to the United States tonight…"_

Before the media and worse, the school itself cornered her, it was his turn to be there for her. Or demand answers; with every step he took, his intent bounced back and forth.


End file.
